


sunscreen

by towokuwusatsuwu



Category: Kamen Rider Ex-Aid
Genre: Alternate Universe, Coitus Interruptus, Flirting, M/M, Massage, More or less at least they don't get to come
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-01 23:19:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13305471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towokuwusatsuwu/pseuds/towokuwusatsuwu
Summary: Kujo Kiriya can't help but admire his employer stretched out on a beach chair by the pool he never uses. Dan Kuroto likes to be acknowledged and needs to remember to use sunscreen.





	sunscreen

The summer sun beats down on Kujo Kiriya’s back as he glances from beneath his own sweaty hair to where Dan Kuroto is stretched out on a chair beside his pool, one arm folded over his eyes while the other dangles listlessly at his side. It isn’t usual that Kuroto spends his days off from work outside; Kiriya has worked for hours on the landscape around this house without ever seeing the man who gives him a paycheck for this work. The only meaningful conversation they had ever had was the interview where Kuroto outlined what he needed done around the outside of his mansion and Kiriya reassuring him he could easily do the work.

Seeing Kuroto outside, much less stretched out in nothing more than a pair of swim trunks, is a rare occasion. That probably doesn’t give Kiriya the license to stare that he takes, but he just smiles crookedly at himself and feigns needing to stretch the muscles in his back so he can get a good, long look at Kuroto’s lean legs and the smooth expanse of his waist.

The supposedly godly genius of Genm Corporation paid well for someone who never seemed to enjoy the sheer splendor of his own grounds, but now Kiriya thinks it might have been for the better that Kuroto never spent any time outside. Tearing his eyes away from the young company president is more difficult than Kiriya wants to admit to himself.

To be fair, part of the reason he had even been interested in this job is that Dan Kuroto is an interesting man. Genm Corporation’s rapid spike in sales and development had only occurred after Kuroto, then still a teenager, had taken over developing games for the company himself. Distantly, Kiriya wonders if entering the video game industry at such a young age had done any irreparable damage to Kuroto. Maybe the money was worth it.

Kiriya swipes a hand across his forehead to wipe the sweat away and returns to the section of bushes in front of him, trying to focus on getting them neatly trimmed and shaped. Making sure all of them are basically the same size and shape by the end is more difficult when his mind continues trying to wander behind him to where Kuroto sits, but he’s not a professional at his job for nothing. He had come with recommendations from some of the richest people in the area, after all, names and numbers neatly listed for reference.

When he’s brushing stray pieces of bush off of himself, the greenery trying to cling to his skin using sweat as traction, he hears a voice call out behind him. The distance between him and Kuroto is great enough that he doesn’t quite make out what Kuroto is saying, but when he turns and squints through the bright sunlight, he can see Kuroto sitting up properly, waving a hand at him lazily, beckoning him closer.

_ Wonder if he’s trying to look suggestive or if it’s just happening naturally, _ Kiriya wonders. He props the hedge trimmers up beside the bushes and walks over to where Kuroto sits, rounding the pool to reach his boss.

“You look hot,” Kuroto tells him, voice soft and sleepy as he gestures to the tray sitting on the table beside him. It hadn’t been there when Kiriya had last looked at him, but Kuroto has plenty of other people working for him and Kiriya knows there must be at least one maid inside. “So I have lemonade brought out. Have a seat and take a break.”

“Thanks, pres.” Kiriya takes a glass slippery with perspiration and sits down on the edge of the beach chair beside Kuroto, inhaling almost half of the glass in one long swig. Ice clinks against the inside of the glass and he lets one piece slip between his teeth, crunching it in appreciation. It is hot, after all.

To his amusement, Kuroto winces, but quickly smoothes out his expression. “I would apologize for being less friendly in the past but you understand I have important work to do.”

“Of course. You got your job and I got mine.” As if Kiriya would ever truly be upset about his employers not speaking to him. All he cares about is getting paid and not getting yelled at, and since Kuroto always pays and never complains, Kiriya likes him just fine.

“But we’re stuck on development for a new game and I could use the break from the constant barrage of emails and phone calls about it.” Kuroto picks up his own glass, empty save for ice cubes, an Kiriya watches as he dips long fingers inside, coming up with ice that he holds against his forehead. “I don’t suppose you’re much interested in video games, are you?”

Kiriya chuckles at the question and shrugs his shoulders. “Not most of ‘em. I bought a racing game from your company a year or so back. It’s pretty damn impressive.”

“ _ Bakusou Bike? _ It was one of my favorites to develop.” The sudden shift in Kuroto’s voice catches Kiriya’s attention, the soft laziness around the edges clearing away almost instantly. He might be wrong, but he think he notices an almost manic gleam in Kuroto’s dark eyes. “What’s your favorite aspect of it? We’re thinking about developing another one too, as it was successfu.”

“Oh, I don’t know any of that fancy shit. It had good graphics and didn’t glitch on me and all the customization options were fun. About all I took the time to notice.” This time, Kiriya definitely notices a brightness in Kuroto’s eyes that had not been there before.

Kuroto seems to preen beneath the compliments before settling back in his seat; the hand holding his ice drifts lower, tracing a wet slippery path down his face to the hollow of his throat. “That’s good to know. I like no frills compliments, Kiriya. It’s nice to know what dedicated gamers like in their games, but they aren’t my only customers. I have casual customers, too.”

“Well, it was a great game and I had a lot of fun playing it.” Kiriya takes another drink, and as he does, his eyes stray down Kuroto’s long, long legs once more. “You got sunscreen? I tend to tan instead of burning and I still put some on before I come out here to work.”

At this, Kuroto makes a face. “It’s a pain to put it on myself.”

“You could always let me do it for you.” He’s crossing a line of professionalism that he absolutely should not be crossing, but Kiriya has always been the type to do things he ought not to do. Asking in the first place was most likely crossing a line as well.

“Would you?” That interesting spark in Kuroto’s eyes comes again, though Kiriya must be imagining it this time. “I’d appreciate it. Dealing with a sunburn beneath a suit is pure hell.”

“You say that like someone who’s dealt with it before. Yeah, it’s no problem.” Kiriya flashes a grin at him; if he can get his hands on Kuroto’s body, then he’ll take the opportunity.

Kuroto stands to retrieve sunscreen from inside of his house. When he stands, the legs of his swim trunks ride up on his thighs and Kiriya watches without bothering to conceal exactly what he’s doing. Kuroto catches the fabric with his fingers and yanks it down just before it rides up enough to show off anything exciting and Kiriya smirks to himself, draining the rest of his lemonade as Kuroto disappears into the shadowy interior of the house.

He had made it a habit to stay on purely professional terms with his employers prior to now, though there had been the odd person or two who had caught his eye. There had been a businessman tucked away in a small and vibrant little city that Kiriya had spoken to a few times if only because the man seemed far older than he looked and his little brother disappeared often, which seemed to make him lonely. There had been a rich family with a house even larger than Kuroto’s, and Kiriya had talked to the younger daughter in the house because even her job as a radio host did nothing to chase the sadness out of her eyes.

There had always been people who earned his sympathy; even rich people had problems, after all. But he had never done anything that might get him in trouble because he makes plenty of money at this job and he has no desire to lose that opportunity.

Then again, none of them interested him in the way Dan Kuroto did.

When Kuroto returns with a bottle of sunscreen in hand, Kiriya positions him the way he wants him on the beach chair. Facing the pool but with plenty of room for Kiriya to climb on behind him. The sunscreen itself smells like coconut and Kiriya rubs it between his hands to warm the cool cream even just a little. It works well enough, but Kuroto still jumps when Kiriya sets his slicked hands on his shoulders, rubbing the cream into his skin.

“So do you just not wear sunscreen ever?” Kiriya asks.

Kuroto sighs and tips his head forward when Kiriya presses his thumbs into the nape of his neck. “Not really. But then I don’t spend time outside that often. Godly talents like mine cannot be wasted, you understand, and Genm is growing more rapidly than ever before.”

“Ah, I get it. Godly talents? You think a lot of yourself.” There isn’t any judgment or disbelief in his voice, not this time. Kiriya is not even the least bit surprised Kuroto holds himself so highly, not in the grand scheme of things. “Surprised you don’t make your employees call you God.”

Kuroto laughs, and the sound is just this sound of hysteric. “If it was up to me, they would.”

Kiriya shakes his head at that, his hands working their way down Kuroto’s bare back, admiring the shape of him as he goes, the smoothness of his skin. The contrast in skin tone is interesting, too; Kiriya’s darker skin against Kuroto’s paler skin, pale enough that he thinks Kuroto might have been a little generous in just how little time he spends out here. All this money put into landscaping and he never even stops to enjoy himself.

“All right, turn around,” Kiriya instructs, and Kuroto does so, turning to straddle the chair the other way. His face is just slightly flushed and Kiriya bites his tongue at the sight of that even as he grabs another generous dollop of sunscreen. “You work out or something? Not much going on in the way of muscles but…”

Instead of explaining, he smoothes a hand slick with sunscreen across Kuroto’s stomach, which is just flat and toned enough to draw his curiosity. To his surprise, Kuroto shudders all over and his eyes fall closed; he almost presses against Kiriya’s hand. He might not spend a lot of time outside, and Kiriya is more than willing to believe that, but now he wonders if Kuroto spends any time out of his house that isn’t spent at work. Surely someone with as much money as he has, with his good looks and status, would not be this touch-starved unless by choice.

“I work out enough to keep my doctor appeased during check-ups,” Kuroto tells him, but the husky tone of his voice belies just how much he enjoys having Kiriya’s hands on him.

The thought is more arousing than it has any right to be; Kiriya licks his lips. It isn’t like Kuroto can see with his eyes closed, after all. “Well, it shows. You’ve put work into your body and I can tell. Really does seem like you have it all out here.”

“I have enough.” Kuroto sounds almost annoyed with the turn of this conversation, so Kiriya falls quiet as he works the sunscreen into Kuroto’s torso. When he presses a hand against his chest, callused palm dragging over a nipple, Kuroto whines low in the back of his throat. So low that Kiriya almost doesn’t hear him.

Kiriya should keep quiet, but he can’t, not really. “Enjoying yourself?” he teases.

“You have no idea.” Kuroto shifts and Kiriya’s eyes dip down to see the swelling at the front of his swim trunks; his own cock twitches at the sight. “My apologies if this is awkward—”

“It’s good.” Kiriya sucks in a sharp breath to steady himself as he drags his hands down Kuroto’s arms, making sure not to miss a single inch of skin. “You’re good from the waist up, but I still gotta get your legs. Burns on the back of them especially are gonna hurt if you just sit down.”

Kuroto bites down on his lip but nods, his head moving a little more frantically than is normal. “Of course, you’re right.”

They switch places and Kuroto stretches back out on his beach chair, and Kiriya sits at the end of it, bringing the bottle of sunscreen with him. His legs are as toned as his stomach, not really noticeably muscular but Kiriya’s eyes sweep over them in appreciation just the same. Getting his hands on them is another experience altogether and he doesn’t disguise the way his hands press into Kuroto’s skin, following the curves of his calves, sneaking into the bends of his knees. That touch makes him jump a little and Kiriya files that away for later.

_ What later? _ he asks himself, but even he knows better than that.

“Pull the legs of your shorts up. If they ride up without you noticing, you’re going to end up burning them without realizing it in time.” Kiriya watches as Kuroto knots trembling fingers in the fabric and yanks it up, all the way to the very tops of his thighs. “Good. Just like that.”

Kuroto holds incredibly still while Kiriya rubs the sunscreen into his thighs, shamelessly groping beneath them as he does. Even if he does hold still, though, it does nothing to steady his breathing, which trembles and jerks with every movement of Kiriya’s hands. When his fingers sneak up beneath the fabric bunched at his thighs, teasing the crease where thigh meets hip, Kuroto whimpers, his hips bucking up, and Kiriya’s cock throbs.

“Sir?” The unfamiliar voice startles both of them and Kiriya yanks his hands away, his eyes darting up toward the patio door to where a woman in a maid uniform stands. “Dan-san? You have a phone call from your mother.”

“Tell her to wait just a moment and I’ll be there,” Kuroto calls. As soon as the patio door closes, Kuroto drapes his arm over his eyes and laughs. “We’ll have to… Finish this, perhaps, another time. If you are interested in doing so.”

Kiriya would prefer to finish it now, but the offer of later could mean more, so he drags his tongue across his dry lips and nods. “Sounds good to me.”

Kuroto stands inelegantly, struggling to find his footing, and Kiriya watches as one hand carefully adjusts the bulge at the front of his swim trunks before he heads for the house. He might be wrong, but he think he detects a slight tremble in Kuroto’s knees, more proof of how much this affected him than anything else.

“Later, God,” Kiriya calls out to his back, and Kuroto laughs at him but lifts an arm in goodbye.

Doing yard work with a hard-on is hard, but Kiriya suffers through it with the thought of later, and maybe more, and the way Kuroto had pressed up into his touch like he was dying for it.

Yeah. There will definitely be a later.


End file.
